The Final Call
by CassandraCousland
Summary: *Dragon Age: The Calling Spoilers* Alistair, being Fiona's son, has an immunity to the deadly effects of the taint, allowing him to live the normal lifespan a Grey Warden cannot. But he doesn't know this, and neither does his beloved Hero of Ferelden, who's nightmares have returned with a vengeance. But kingly duties keep him from joining her in her Calling...


**Sorry for not updating my Captain Swan fics. I've been busy lately on my other blog. But here's some Dragon Age angst instead ;-;**

* * *

The carriage is moving painfully fast. So is time. All the years they spent together, even their first- he'd relive it again in a heartbeat if only...

Wow. This is happening. This is _really_ happening. He always thought that... Maker he doesn't even remember what he used to think anymore. All he knows is that he's not ready for... this. Who could be?

She's sleeping, and by Andraste's blood does she look as beautiful as the day he met her. And soon she'll be... he doesn't want to think about that- he _can't_.

He hasn't closed his eyes since they left Denerim, and he feels his lids drooping, but he's not going to let his own weakness get the best of him. She's about to _die _and all he can think about is his next nap. He's ashamed of himself.

"When you get your calling, I'm coming with you," she'd promised.

"You don't have to do that for me," he'd tried to fight.

But she folded her arms and raised her eyebrows. "Who says I'm doing it for _you_?" she pointed out. He wanted to argue, but the way she looked at him, the way she had grabbed his hands and squeezed them as if she were afraid she'd lose herself letting go- "If I had... to live without you..." her voice was shaky, breath catching between words. He'd never seen her so upset, so broken. He didn't let her finish, and pulled her into a loving embrace.

"I won't stop you," he muttered into her crown of hair.

But now it's him. _He's_ supposed to be the one living without _her_, watching her stumble into the darkness without him. And it's worse than any nightmare an archdemon could thrust upon him.

He still remembers the night her dreams returned, the feeling of dread that had built up in his stomach, the dread that's still there and never left. Because how was it possible? How was she going before him? It should have been him! Not her! He knows in the back of his mind that things like this happen, that some wardens live longer with the taint than others. But they've both been lucky enough already.

"Now, I'm going with you," he told her a few weeks later. The nightmares hadn't ceased to harass her everytime she closed her eyes. Her lack of sleep had left dark circles under her lids and made her so weak that even standing was difficult. She'd been holding out for too long. She was running out of time.

"No," Teagan had exclaimed. "You haven't even begun to dream yet. You have duties to attend to. You're Ferelden's _king_."

And she _nodded_. She _agreed_ with Teagan. "He's right," she muttered. Her expression was cloudy, but he could still see straight through her. He could tell she hated saying those words. He could almost feel the anguish she tried to hide in her voice.

"N-no! Don't make me agree to this! Don't leave me, don't let me let you go!" he'd shouted. The whole predicament made him unreasonably mad at her and Teagan. "If you're going, I'll soon follow, so don't leave me here only to have me get my calling a week later!"

She was strong. She fought tears and she fought the fear that nagged at her. "We can't take that chance. There's still so much you could do for Ferelden!" Her tone was steady, and of course there was no convincing her otherwise.

_She's as stubborn as Sten sometimes,_ he muses, recalling the "glory days". Maybe he should go see Oghren. Maker knows what mischief they could get into before he or the old dwarf had to... go to their Callings too. The end of an era.

He feels the carriage slowing and that dread that's been building up for weeks starts to bubble inside of him. _No, not yet, I can't- I'm not ready,_ are the only thoughts racing through his mind. Beside him, she's squirming and muttering incoherently, eyes dancing under her lids. She's dreaming alright. But then he sees her relax. He sees a smile tug at her lips. And all the fear washes away... well, almost all the fear.

He raises a hand and gently strokes at her greying hair. He'd hoped to grow old with her. But hope seems pointless now.

The carriage stops and he bends over to kiss her head one last time. "We're here," he says softly.

Her eyes slide open and there's so much weariness in them it makes him want to pull her close and never let go, but she cracks a smile and says in that still incredibly beautiful voice, "Already?"

He swallows the urge to talk about what's happening right now and merely nods, watching her as she sits up and stretches.

"L- let's go, I guess." She's trying to sound confident, but to him she sounds like she's on the verge of tears. He is, too.

They both wait, neither of them wanting to move.

"Alistair?" she starts.

"Yes?"

"I-I'm..." _Afraid? Worried? Upset?_ "...sorry." _Oh._

"For what?" he asks gently.

She turns to look at him, her eyes are watery and he watches as she attempts to blink away the tears. "For having to leave." He just looks down. She reaches for his hand and massages it. "If there were any other way- if there were a cure-" She pauses. "I'd do anything. I'm... sorry."

When they finally get out and begin making their way to the front gates of Orzammar, that nostalgic feeling creeps over him again. She lets out a laugh beside him, and he gives her a curious look.

She grins back. "Remember the last time we were here and we totally _crushed_ Loghain's men?"

The way she can still smile in the darkest moments makes him love her even more passionately. "Yes, I do..." he replies, forcing a smile himself. So this is how it's going to be? They're going to act like this isn't happening?

Sounds good to him. The longer he denies it, the less real it will feel.

As they enter the main cavern, he points down the long bridge where the door to the Proving arena is. "I remember when you single-handedly won that proving match."

She chuckles and bumps into him playfully. "I got by with a little help from my friends in the end, though."

And it's this feeling- this feeling of simplicity in their relationship that he'll miss the most. How easy and open they are around each other. They stop at the palace where they'd been offered rooms to rest for the night.

And after exploring every part of each other for one last time, they spend the rest of the night awake, holding the other, talking about normal things.

He listens with incredible intent as she describes her favorite food or recalls moments from her childhood that she'd never shared with him before. She pays close attention to the way his mouth moves as he tells her about the time Isolde made him shovel hay out of the barn, and how he had to stop a giant cow from eating all of it before Isolde found out.

She traces the laugh lines on his face and he pokes at her dimples. They both lose themselves in each other, and for once, time slows in their favor.

The next day when she's donned in the traditional Grey Warden armor and standing before the entrance to the Deep Roads, he feels so broken.

She turns to look at him, giving him one last smile before she begins melting into the darkness. But just before she fades from view entirely, he sees her stumble, and the memory never leaves him.

And so his wait begins. He passes time with a quiet patience, replaying his last night with her, thanking the maker that they were even able to live as long as they did together. He spends the rest of his numbered days hoping the nightmares will visit him soon so he can join his beloved Warden. But they never come.


End file.
